Inspired By: "Freak Nation"
by pari106
Summary: New chapter; one new short and one new drabble; both M/L.
1. "Honor the Risen"

Honor the Risen  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com ; http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html ; Disclaimer: DA is not mine;   
Rating: PG; Set during "Freak Nation". Max's POV.  
  
A/N: Please review!!   
  
  
Joshua's flag… I stare at it, and it hits me again – how much Joshua sees. Sometimes he sees things I   
don't see myself. Until he points them out to me. Like the colors of this flag… They're perfect. At first   
glance, I didn't realize how perfect. But then Joshua explained them to me.   
  
First, there's the barcode, which Joshua says represents us all.   
  
Then there's black… "Where we came from," Joshua said. Darkness, like the darkness of the basements   
he grew up in. Or the darkness of a dirty little secret – that's what we all were to Manticore. For me,   
though, I think the black of the flag represents a little more than just my past. It represents all that past has   
done to me. And to Alec. And to all the other X5s. It represents the greatest obstacle to our futures: the   
darkness within ourselves.  
  
When Joshua pointed to the red on the flag he said it was "because our blood is being spilt." And the white   
is "where we want to be" in the future. Free. To go out "into the light". No more basements. No more   
dirty, little secrets. No more darkness; just freedom. Logan said freedom is never free, and he's right. It's   
gonna take a lot of "red" to win that "white" future Joshua mentioned… But I have to believe it'll be worth   
it.  
  
Some of the others laughed when they first saw Joshua's flag. But no one's laughing now, as that flag flies   
above us.  
  
I guess they've realized what I did, the second I saw it. It's not stupid, to have a flag; a banner. Even if   
there is no parade to fly it in, or anyone who'd want to watch if there were. We don't need a parade. Just   
that flag, and what it represents beyond ourselves, our presents, our pasts and our futures. It represents   
honor.  
  
Manticore taught us to honor the dead. Well, Joshua's flag is a way to honor the living. To remind us that   
our fight is an honorable one. That we are honorable. We are people; we are soldiers. Yeah…we are   
freaks. But we deserve just as much respect as any other living thing. We can think; we can feel; we can   
love. We have enough respect of others to honor the fallen. And enough respect for ourselves to honor the   
risen.  
  
Because today we are risen. Above the darkness that made us fugitives from the people who made us;   
strangers to ourselves and the people around us. Above the blood and the fear. Today, we know, is our day   
to make a stand.  
  
And we've risen our flag above us so that the world will know it, too. 


	2. "It Ain't Over Till It's Over"

It Ain't Over Till It's Over  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com ; http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html ; Disclaimer: DA   
is not mine; Rating: PG; Timeframe: set during the beginning scene of "Freak Nation".   
Logan's POV at that time.  
  
  
Touch.  
  
God, I hate that word…  
  
I feel like I've obsessed over the concept so much that the word itself has lost all   
meaning. But this is touch… Isn't it?  
  
Maybe it isn't the same… My hands all wrapped up in rubber and tape. In a way, I   
guess it's kind of ridiculous. But it's the closest to the real thing that Max and I have   
been in a long time. Too long.   
  
And as I ease down the zipper on her suit, I feel my mouth go dry and I tell myself that   
*I'm* ridiculous. Because the truth is, I know it isn't the same. I know a couple of pairs   
of rubber gloves haven't changed anything. The virus is still here between us. The last   
couple of months are still here between us. The break-up is still here. And even if all of   
that were gone, Max's fear of being with me isn't. The fact that she's moved on…moved   
right onto Alec…isn't.   
  
What it all comes down to is nothing has changed because, even if we can touch, it's only   
because these gloves are between us, too. And that's just not good enough.  
  
I tell myself all this. Well… To be honest, part of me tells myself this.   
  
Tells me I'm stupid for wanting to let my touch linger on Max's skin as I inspect the   
runes that have appeared there… Tells me I'm a fool to watch her shiver and to want –   
so badly – to believe it's from something other than the cold. Or from something else I'd   
rather not think about – like concern for what her boyfriend Alec might think of me   
touching her, even if we're not really touching at all.   
  
The other part tells me I'm a fool for not having thought of this sooner. When it wasn't   
too late.  
  
But, fool or not, I can't seem to focus on my job and get it done. And I can't seem to let   
Max go when it's time and my hand is there linked with hers.  
  
I can't seem to stop staring, searching for something other than fear or coldness or Alec   
behind Max's big, brown eyes. Searching for confirmation that maybe it isn't so   
ridiculous that I don't want to give up. Even with everything that stands between me and   
Max… Even with everything we have to keep between us. I don't want to give up on us;   
I don't want to give up on her. I don't want to let Alec have her without a fight.   
Because, unbelievably enough, I can see it right there in Max's eyes… The truth that,   
perhaps, this is a fight I could win. If she would only let me. And whatever else Max   
might say, I can't believe we're really over until her eyes say the same. 


	3. "Tests" and "Beneath"

"This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System…"  
by pari106  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine; Rating: G. Spoilers: "Freak Nation". Code: M/L, short.  
  
A/N: This is just a pointless little fic I had to write because I can't help thinking, whenever I watch that scene at the beginning of the show's finale, what if Logan had something up his sleeve then that we don't know about? If anyone reads this, review.   
  
  
Tests. Logan had taken many. But none whose results mattered as much as the ones he   
would receive today. There could only be one of two outcomes to today's self-imposed   
test. He could be right – about Joshua's transfusion having given him the necessary   
antibodies to defeat the virus. The same way it had given him back the use of his legs.   
And all his prayers of the last year would be answered.  
  
Or he could be wrong.  
  
And he would die.  
  
Was Logan willing to bet his life on one simple question?  
  
He hesitated, for only a moment, before laying his hand on Max's skin, just above one of   
the runes he'd agreed to translate for her. He imagined that he could feel her skin against   
his, at the point where he'd punctured the protective gloves he wore. The hole he'd made   
in the latex was large enough, presumably, for infection, not so large that he could   
actually feel Max's back as he touched her. So, of course, it was all his imagination. But   
he imagined it anyway. He'd told her once that his mother had always believed in Fate.   
She had. But Logan had never told Max about his father's philosophy on the subject.   
  
Logan Cale Sr. had believed in tests.  
  
According to him, everything in life was a test. A death, a birth, a wedding…a divorce.   
A woman dropping through your sky light in the middle of the night; a shooting. A virus.   
All those things would fall into the category of "test" if Logan's father were still around   
to say so. Logan thought of his father often, and whenever he did, more often than not,   
he tormented himself with thoughts of the elder Cale. He speculated on what his father   
would have thought, had he known how he'd handled some of his own, personal life   
tests.  
  
What would he have said? If he knew how things had turned out with Valerie? If he   
knew how things were turning out with Max? What would he have said, if he knew how   
close Logan had come to failing the biggest test of all, that day it had felt like he'd never   
make it out of his wheelchair. Except with the help of a gun.   
  
Logan had been that close to failing that test when what his mother would have called   
"fate" had intervened. And he knew that if he were wrong today, then his actions could   
very well be perceived as an attempt at suicide the same as the last time. Only this time,   
Logan's weapon of choice was a touch not a bullet. And this time it wasn't a way out   
Logan was looking for. Even if it were, no one would ever know. He couldn't tell Max   
what he'd planned; she'd never have allowed it.   
  
This time, when Logan faced death, literally, by his own hand, it wasn't because he   
wanted to die. It was because he wanted something else entirely. He wanted a message.  
  
He wanted to send a message to Max. He wanted to do something that would tell her the   
things he couldn't tell her in words. He wanted to tell her that he hadn't given up on   
them, and never would; that only death could push him away. He wanted to show Max   
how less worthy of living his life had become without the prospect of having her in it.  
  
And more importantly, Logan wanted to send a message to Fate. A message that he   
would not be beaten. If not by a divorce or a shooting or a pair of big brown eyes that   
had turned his world around, then certainly not by a damned virus. He wanted to send   
himself that message. He wanted to broadcast it, so loud and so clear, with his actions,   
that Max wouldn't be able to run from it; that he wouldn't be able to doubt it.   
  
He wanted to send his message before it was too late, and he'd given up hope; faith. In   
Fate, if he'd ever had it. And in himself.  
  
When Max left, Logan simply stood there, staring at his hands, still encased in their   
gloves.   
  
And waited to see whether or not he'd passed.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Beneath  
a drabble-and-a-half by pari106 ;P  
  
  
"If Sandeman put these in your genome from day one…then it's part of a plan," he told   
Max.  
  
With steady hands, and a steady gaze, Logan could almost pretend that holding her hand   
again wasn't the best thing that had happened to him in months.  
  
"Yeah, well…why didn't he give me something I could use? Like x-ray vision, or   
something?" Max quipped.  
  
With smiling lips, laughing eyes… She could almost pretend the same wasn't true for   
herself.  
  
'X-ray vision… Hmm.' The power to see through things; beneath them.  
  
"Maybe he did…" Logan began. 'Like the power to see beneath the fear, the lies, keeping   
us apart.'   
  
"Maybe it just hasn't shown up yet." Maybe it would.  
  
Maybe he just had to keep hoping. From the look in Max's eyes, the look he'd seen once   
too often to think he'd imagined it, Logan believed that hope might not be in vain. 


End file.
